What, in your opinion, is the factor that most powerfully shapes the way we feel and act?
According to cognitive psychotherapy, it is our thinking. The central premise of cognitive psychotherapy is that how we feel about a given thing depends far more on how we think about it than on the thing itself. This idea is often illustrated through a simple schematic using three components – the first three letters from the English alphabet: A, B, and C.
-
(A) represents an event in the external world that matters to us and affects us in a certain way.
-
(B) stands for the way we think about that event: how we interpret it and evaluate its significance.
-
(C) denotes our response: how we react, how we feel, and what we do in order to deal with the situation.
Cognitive psychotherapists have shown that our reactions to external events (C) are influenced far more by our interpretation of those events (B) than by the events themselves (A). To make this clearer, let me offer an example. Imagine that (A) is an event from the outer world that is, as a rule, among the greatest sources of stress and pain in human life: the death of a loved one. When this happens, our typical reactions (C) are grief and tears. We dress in mourning and withdraw into sorrow.
Yet there are cultures in the East where the response to the same event is radically different. Instead of black garments, people wear white; instead of mourning, they celebrate; instead of weeping, they dance. The external event is the same, yet the reactions could not be more opposed. The reason lies in the thinking – in the “behavioural component” (B) of an attitude – our appraisal of what has occurred and the meaning we assign to it. While in the West we may think, “It is over. I will never see you again… how terrible that you could not live longer and enjoy life… I miss you so much,” in the East people may think, “You have completed what you came to Earth to do, and now you may rest. I will remain a little longer to fulfil my own purpose, and then I will return to you, and we shall be together again.”
Whenever I introduce cognitive psychotherapy, I return to this same example. I value it because it so unequivocally illustrates the starkest contrast in human reactions that a shift in thinking can produce. The difference between mourning and celebration is as contrasting as that between black and white. And in this case, it arises solely from the beliefs through which we interpret what happens to us.
Thus, the core message of cognitive psychotherapy can be expressed simply: Become aware of the beliefs that cause you to react in one way or another. And if you wish to change how you feel, change those beliefs. Examine their truthfulness and replace them with others that are closer to reality.
At first glance, this principle appears easy to apply. In practice, however, it is anything but simple. The reason is that the vast majority of our thinking occurs automatically and entirely outside conscious awareness. Anyone who has practiced meditation will understand what I mean. We think incessantly, yet we are rarely aware of the specific thoughts passing through our minds. More than that, our unconscious thoughts often stand in direct contradiction to our conscious ones.
For instance, I may be deeply convinced that I love someone, while remaining unaware of the immense swarm of judgmental and accusatory thoughts I harbour toward that person. Or the opposite may occur: I may believe that I do not care about someone at all, yet if I observe myself honestly, I will notice that my thoughts are, in fact, almost entirely occupied with them. Because the logical mind cannot simultaneously hold awareness of two mutually exclusive opposites, it either alternates between the positions with which it identifies or aligns itself with only one, leaving the other entirely unconscious.
Yet another challenge presents itself. It is hard enough to become aware of unconscious thoughts, but it becomes even harder when those thoughts pertain to the fundamental beliefs that shape our philosophy of life. And yet these beliefs exert the greatest influence over how we assign meaning to our experiences and how we decide to respond to them. I am speaking of beliefs about what love is, what freedom means, what the purpose of our life may be, whether we have a soul, and if so, how we ought to care for it. When it comes to the mediating role of component (B) and to genuine psychotherapeutic change, it is precisely the awareness of these beliefs, their critical examination, and their replacement with more reality-aligned alternatives that truly matters.
I vividly remember how anxious I was when my child was one year old and, according to the standards of books and paediatric recommendations, did not eat “enough.” At the time, it did not even occur to me that there might be another way to respond besides worry. Only later did I realize that at the root of my anxiety lay a belief: that a lack of appetite was necessarily a sign of illness. But what if that belief was not true? I asked myself this question when I came across information stating that a child’s poor appetite is not always an indicator of a health problem; that some children simply have lower nutritional needs, and that this does not mean they are ill. Was this the case with my child? What was the truth? Not truth in general, but the truth in this specific situation. Was my child’s low appetite a sign of illness, or merely an expression of individual disposition?
Only an investigation of reality could provide an answer. And what my inquiry revealed was that although my child continued to eat with the same “poor appetite”, they were lively, healthy, and full of energy. Through the simple act of identifying, examining, and changing this belief, I not only stopped worrying (and I had worried every single day!), but I also spared my child the trauma of being forced to eat according to average statistical norms.
Since the average norm is neither proof of normality nor of truth. It is merely what it is: information about what is most common at a given point in time within a particular social group or culture. This applies to everything – from scientific findings to levels of mental health. Neither innovation nor individuals with high levels of psychological well-being fall within the domain of the average.
You can imagine how revolutionary it is when people realize the immense power of critical, independent, investigative thinking. The world would no longer be the same. Anyone can become their own cognitive psychotherapist by beginning to examine their beliefs and to question what they have taken for granted until now. This means seeking alternative perspectives, reading, informing oneself, and – above all – challenging one’s convictions precisely when one feels most certain and most fervent about being right. What if what you believe so passionately turns out not to correspond to reality?
I am reminded of a thought by Byron Katie:
“The worst thing that can happen to you is an uninvestigated thought.”
Therefore, i urge you to examine your beliefs. Test them. Ask yourself: “If I am feeling this way, what is the belief that lies behind it?” There will come a moment when unconscious thoughts will no longer hold power over you. And when that happens, your past will no longer hold power over you either. Because it is precisely within unconscious thoughts that the imprints of everything our parents, teachers, friends, and others have told us are stored, later becoming part of our conditioning.
Those imprints must change if we wish to grow and to reach higher levels of psychological health.
Kameliya Hadzhiyska
